


Bound

by runawaygypsy



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, dom!Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:30:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophia is working as a bartender when she meets a mysterious man who turns out to be a famous actor with some very dominant sexual desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He watches from a darkened corner of the bar, blue eyes trail me as I go about my business. I'm used to attention from the men, most of them still find a woman bartender a novelty, even though I can sling spirits better than most of the male bartenders I've met. Tonight, I don't feel like I'm much to look at. I'm dressed in a pair of cutoff shorts and a green t-shirt that has seen better days and is now stained with splatters of tomato juice and beer along with a dozen other kinds of alcohol. I'm wearing shoes my roommate refers to as my “nurse shoes,” white sneakers that more than make up in function and comfort what they lack in style. My hair is a rats nest, pulled into a messy bun on top of my head because I barely had enough time to get to work on account of a faulty alarm clock. The same reasoning goes for my lack of make-up. I settled for a quick swipe of eye liner on each eye and a hastily-applied tinted lip gloss that had long since worn off. 

Still, I'm in a great mood tonight and I am buzzing behind my bar refreshing drinks, passing out peanuts, joking with my regulars. Each time I look his direction, the stranger catches my eye. I'm not sure of he has been studying me or whether he just happens to be looking in my direction when I am looking his way. It would have been disconcerting for me had it not been a busy Saturday night.

By the time I go on my break, he is gone, his table cleared of everything except an empty pint glass and a tip for the waitress. I feel let down, but I'm not exactly sure why. It's not like he was waiting specifically for me. I decide that I need a little fresh air, to get out of the staleness of the bar, so I step out the back door into the alley. It's cool and crisp, an early autumn evening and I close my eyes as I lean back against the building. Despite the sounds of the city in the distance, it is almost peaceful, and I am reveling in the solace, until a voice rings in my ears. “Isn't it a bit chilly out here for you?” He whispers. He is close enough that I can feel his breath on my ear, its warmth breaking the chill of the evening. 

Startled, my eyes snap open, my breath catches in my chest as I gasp and my heart starts racing. I turn to the left to look at the owner of the voice. “Oh, shit!” I exclaim in surprise. The voice has come from him, the mysterious man with the blue eyes. 

He looks amused and flashes a wide smile at me. “I'm so sorry,” he apologizes, “I truly did not mean to scare you.” 

If he were one of my friends or even one of my co-workers, I would have smacked him on the arm and tried to push him out of my way with mock aggression, but all I can muster with him is a weak, “I'm not scared, you just startled me is all.” I hold my hand on my chest, over my heart, still racing. “What are you doing back here, anyways?”

He stands straight up and puts his hand on the brick, leaning casually against it. The light that streams from the street light on the corner gives me a better view of him. He is tall, at least a foot taller than I am, lanky, but with a ripple of muscle that is revealed by an almost too thin button-down shirt. His hair is slightly curly, not terribly long and black. “Getting a breath,” he answers, smiling at me, this time with less amusement, more seduction. 

I nod, but internally, I am screaming, “Oh my God, he has dimples!” and “Dear Lord, he's British!” This is not the reaction I expect from myself. In a dark alley with a mysterious stranger, I hoped that my internal alarms would be blaring, telling me to run, but they're silent. I feel comfortable with him, like I already know him, and it's the strangest sensation. I straighten my back and strengthen my resolve. “I should be getting back to work,” I say, trying to give myself an air of authority. I really don't want to seem a bitch, but it begins to come off that way, so I back-pedal. “If you'll excuse me, I really need to get back in there. The natives get restless when the bartender is gone too long.” I smiled sweetly at him.

Perhaps I lingered just a millisecond too long waiting for him to respond, staring up at those blue eyes, because he leaned down and landed a soft kiss on my lips and whispered, “I'll wait for you.” I watch him disappear around the corner and escape back into the familiarity of the bar. My heart started beating like it would jump out of my chest.

The bar is still busy, even though last call was less than an hour away, but it allows me to throw myself into my job. I don't see the stranger in the bar, his seat now occupied by Gladys, the resident floozie and one of her gentlemen friends. I ask Wendy, one of the waitresses, if she had seen him, but she shook her head. “Boy, did he have eyes for you, though,” she comments, “It was like you were the only girl in the joint.”

If anything, Wendy confirms my suspicion. He had been watching me. Now, thinking of his last words to me, in the gritty reality of the bar, it starts to feel a bit stalker-ish, so I ask Raymundo, the fry cook, to walk me out to my car at the end of the night, just in case. Raymundo was also the bar's resident bouncer. At six foot three, 250 pounds of muscle, he was intimidating. He was also a big teddy bear. He obliged, even though he lived with his boyfriend in an apartment above the bar and had no reason to venture outside otherwise.

After all the patrons leave the bar, we close up shop. Wendy, Raymundo and I all head for the employee parking on the side of the bar, keeping our eyes peeled for the mystery man. I half hope he would be there, but I am also afraid he would be. There is no sign of him as Wendy got into her car and drove away, so I let Raymundo go back to his apartment. 

I am alone once again and hastily slide my key into the car lock and turn it. Just as I lift up the handle to open the door, I hear a car pull in behind me. “Did you think I forgot you?” he says.

I spin around and there he is, in the drivers' seat of a black Jaguar. “No, not at all,” I sigh, wishing I had asked Raymundo to stay until I drove away.

He turns his car off and gets out. “You seem a bit frightened of me,” he observes. He is standing next to me and I am now trapped between mystery man and my car.

I shrug, “Well, you did sound a bit like a stalker back there.” 

He starts laughing, his amusement rolling off his tongue in an “Ehehehe.” When he stops, he smiles at me again. “I'm sorry, let me properly introduce myself,” he says, extending a hand toward me. “My name is Tom.”

I take his hand. His skin is soft and mine is dwarfed by it. “Sophia,” I answer. I am drawn in again by those eyes, that smile. I still have no internal alarms going off. 

Tom holds his door open. “Would you like to come out with me for a while?” he asks.

Gesturing to my now entirely beer soaked work attire, I answer, “I would love to, but not in this condition. Can I take a rain check for tomorrow? I'm off.”

“How about seven o'clock then?” He raises an eyebrow as he says it. 

I bite my lip. “That's good. Shall we meet here?”

Tom nods, then leans in and steals another kiss. “Seven it is,” he whispers before retreating to his car and speeding away into the night.

 

The next night, I am in a tizzy, running around my apartment, yelling for my roommate to help me figure out what to wear, how I should do my hair. “I haven't been on a date in three years,” I whine.

Marissa nods in support. “I know, not since Jonathan,” she says reprovingly. “Tell me about this guy, what's he like?”

As she helps me curl my hair, I tell her about the previous night's events. None of it sounds realistic. “The strangest thing is, I feel like I've met him before,” I say. 

I decided on a sapphire blue silk cocktail dress, conservatively hemmed at knee length, with a wrap-style top that had a deep v neck and ¾ length sleeves. As I shimmy the dress up past my hips, I glance down and spied a DVD cover that was sticking out halfway from under her bed. “What's that?” I ask.

Marissa sets down the shoes she's holding and picks up the cover. “This?” She holds it up and shows me the front, the title reading “Deep Blue Sea.” The man on the cover looks like my date, except younger and with lighter hair.

“That's him...” I sputter, “Or someone who looks an awful lot like him.”

She flips it over and inspects it, her brow furrowing. “That's Tom Hiddleston,” she announces. Her eyes flick up to mine and narrow. “Are you telling me you have a date with Tom Flipping Hiddleston?”

I shrug. “Or someone who looks a lot like him.” I am beginning to doubt my own sanity, and my memory of the previous evening. “What are you gonna do, sneak after me and make sure?” I ask her.

She drops the DVD. “I might just do that.”

“How about you give me a ride, instead.”

I finish my primping and glance at the clock. It's 6:30. Marissa and I escape from our apartment, head out to her little pea shooter of a car and zip down the road to the bar. When we get there, she asks, “Do you want me to come in? I can always hang in the back and gossip with Raymundo.”

My nerves are fluttering and I am starting to regret not having a light snack before the date. I manage a weak, “Yeah, that sounds good,” as I get out of the car.

We walk through the bar door and there he is, back in the corner, hiding in the shadows. I whisper to Marissa, “Over there, corner pocket.” He's dressed in a three piece suit tonight, perfectly tailored, charcoal gray, with a white shirt and a blue striped tie.

“Holy shit!” she whispers back out of the side of her mouth, “That is him! Oh, I want to meet him.” 

“No!” I say a little too loudly and elbow her softly in the ribs.

She gasps and jumps away. “Fine, I'll go talk to Raymundo,” she says spitefully. I know she's really not hurt, just miffed, so I let her leave and continue on to his table.

He stands as I arrive and takes my hand, kissing the back. “Hello,” he smiles, “I'm pretty sure you don't want to stay here, so, shall we go?” I nod and he drapes his long arm around my shoulders. He leans in and kisses my temple. “You smell delicious,” he mumbles.

We escape the bar without any interference from Marissa, whom I catch out of the corner of my eye giving me a thumbs up along with Raymundo. I try to stifle a laugh and end up snorting. “Sorry,” I squeak out, “Just a sneeze.” But I can't conceal my smile.

He guides me out to his black Jaguar and opens the door, helping me in. I seat belt myself as he walks around to the driver's side and gets in. “I hope you enjoy sushi,” he smiles as he turns the key and the car revs to life.

“I love it,” I answer, watching him as he expertly guides the car out of the parking lot and onto the city street. I can see the veins on his hands move as the muscles flex while he grips the steering wheel, and his face is a masque of concentration as he maneuvers through the evening traffic. 

His jaw is set and his eyes are focused, until he notices me watching him. “Are you enjoying the view?” he laughs. 

“I just feel like I've seen you somewhere before,” I muse, “I mean before last night.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I am an actor, perhaps you've seen me on stage or TV or even in one of my movies.”

“Maybe.” I lean my head back against the seat and sigh. Marissa was right, and I'm thinking about how she'll grill me when I get home when his hand suddenly appears on my thigh. I glance over at him again and he smiles at me.

“We're here, darling,” he announces. I look up and see that we have stopped. We're at valet parking at Katsu, the newest sushi restaurant in the city. 

My eyes widen and Tom chuckles again. “I normally don't come to places like this, but I'm friends with the owner and he invited me personally.” He gets out of the car and hands his keys to the attendant, then walks around to help me out of the car. His hand is on my elbow to steady me and my heel catches on the curb. I stumble, crashing into him, but he catches me and embraces me. “Are you alright?” he asks as he feels my body begin to spasm.

I lift my head up and look at him, laughing hard. “I'm fine,” I answer as I wipe tears from my eyes. “I'm a klutz, sorry.” I hear the familiar “Ehehehe” as he releases me and we begin walking towards the door.


	2. Chapter #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening heats up

Dinner is wonderful, both of us eating our fill in California Rolls, spicy tuna and eel and cups of hot tea and sake. The whole time, Tom is the consummate gentleman and he reminds me of the guys in the old black and white movies to the point where when I stand to visit the restroom, he rises as well, and when I return, he is ready with my chair out. And I thought chivalry was dead.

We sit side by side, both navigating through the delicacies with chopsticks in hand. Several times, we accidentally bump hands and I feel a surge of electricity jump from my skin to his. The third time. It seems almost deliberate, granted on both our parts, and this time, he drops his chopsticks mid-reach, grasps my hand so I drop mine and intertwines his fingers in mine. Puzzled, I turn to look at him and he is gazing right at me. “I'm sure it sounds silly,” he begins, “But, I've never felt like this so instantaneously. I feel like I've known you forever, even though we've only known each other a few hours. He kisses the back of my hand and then continues up my arm, sweetly, softly. By the time he reaches my lips, I am breathless. I can't help myself when he kisses me deeply and I can taste the sake on his lips. His free hand travels up my arm and to the back of my head, where his fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls me even closer to him.

Our meal is nearly finished and while he finally releases me from that heavenly embrace, he keeps stealing sidelong glances, studying me. When I finally lean back, I find that his arm has draped behind me and I rest my head on it and close my eyes. “That was divine,” I chuckle, satisfied and smile toward him.

He leans in close to my ear, kissing it softly. “Care to come back to my place?” he whispers, his voice low. The warmth of his breath sends another shiver down my spine. I nod, open my eyes and turn to look at him. He raises an eyebrow and his lips curl into a seductive grin, his hooded blue eyes alluding to what was still to come.

We exit Katsu and the valet has his Jaguar waiting for us. As I slide into the passenger seat and realize just how much it smells like him, with a hint of leather. He situates himself into the driver's seat and before I know it, we are speeding down the city streets toward the hills. “I've been renting this house in the hills,” he explains, “While I'm filming. It has everything you can imagine, and then some.” He leaves the last part hanging, thick with anticipation and the suggestion that it may have to do with us, tonight.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, “What do you mean by, 'and then some'?” 

Tom takes my hand again, kissing my wrist and a sly smiles forms. “How do you feel about toys?”

“Toys? Like in kid's toys?” I am playing innocent at the moment, mostly because I am waiting to hear him say it. I've now got the feeling that he has a thing for the kink and it intrigues me.

“Oh,” he answers, “I think you know what I mean.” He lowers his head and the look on his face is akin to that of a five year old that just did something naughty.

Now, it's my turn for mischief. “Tom, have you been a bad boy?” I ask, hoping that he will give me more of an indication as to where this is all going, because I am hoping that it is going to play into one of my wildest fantasies.

He licks his lips and a low chuckle escapes them. “No, but I'm sure you've been a bad girl.”

This was exactly where I had hoped it was going and now I am imagining several tantalizing possibilities. “I think I may need a spanking,” I shoot back, giving him the most wicked look I have.

Tom's jaw drops, as though he wasn't expecting me to be as willing a participant in his little game as I am and it takes him a moment to recover, which he does in glorious fashion. “Oh, you'll get more than that.”


	3. Chapter #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia and Tom arrive at his house. Hijinks ensue.

We arrive at the house, it is a two-story Tudor style with a long, winding drive through evergreen trees that ends in a cobblestone courtyard with a huge fountain in the middle. Even though it is dark outside, there is light flooding the area from all sides. “Some digs,” I comment as Tom parks the car.

“Ehehehe.” He laughs and adds, “I guess they are.”

He helps me from the car and as we approach the front door whisks me into his arms, pulling me into a deep kiss. I poke my tongue out and lick his lips hungrily and he reciprocates by grasping my lower lip between his teeth softly. A quiet moan escapes my lips, almost soft enough to be just a sigh. “Are you ready, my darling?” he whispers.

I smile at him as seductively as I can. “Yes,” is all I can manage without feeling silly. This is the first time I have ever gone home with anyone like this on the first date, much less someone as handsome, as famous and with as much kink as he is letting on.

Tom keeps an arm around me as he unlocks the door and as it swings open wide, pulls me in with him and into another kiss. This time, the kiss trails down to my neck where he licks and lightly bites, testing my reaction. I gasp and hear him hum in approval. “A little pain with the pleasure perhaps?” he growls. I answer him by grinding myself up against him, an act that reveals to me his already growing manhood.

He releases me and pulls me by the hand to a doorway, hidden under the stairs. “Come with me, my darling.” The door is opened to reveal another staircase, which we descend. Everything here is lit by candle light, the low lighting makes it seem much deeper than it is and gives the whole place the feel of a medieval torture chamber. Once we reach the basement, Tom flicks on some lights, illuminating what does, indeed, look like a torture chamber. “Shall we begin?” he asks.

“I'd love to,” I answer, half expecting another kiss, but Tom has other ideas. 

He is smiling devilishly at me. Like a predator circling his prey, he walks around me, stopping behind me. “Close your eyes,” he commands so fiercely it startles me. I feel him reach from behind as he slides the arms of my dress off my shoulders, kissing the back of my neck softly, driving me crazy already. The dress falls down around my hips and with another tug, pools on the floor by my feet. I am left in my bra, panties and heels. One hand unclasps my bra, the other slides down the front of my panties, grazing the already swollen, moist folds of my sex. I rise up to meet his hand and he shushes me. “Not yet,” he growls. He pulls my panties down and instructs me to lift my feet so he can pull them out from around my ankles. As I lean over, my bra falls from my shoulders as well and I shimmy it down my arms, letting it drop and join my other clothes.

I open my eyes to watch him, but he is still behind me, his hands driving me wild as they run up and down my sides. When he stops, I feel a small cold emptiness, until I see a blindfold appear before me. “Sorry, love,” he says, staying in character, “This is for your own good.” He places it over my eyes and adjusts the strap so it is tight. I see complete darkness. He pulls me back toward the wall and I stumble, nearly crashing into him, but he steadies me. I feel first my right arm, then my left arm raised up and put in leather shackles. “That will keep you, my pet,” he whispers, his warm breath on my neck drawing goosebumps in the cool air of the basement. I can feel my nipples immediately harden at the sensation. 

Tom leaves me there for a moment, bound and totally exposed. I hear noises from the other side of the room as he grabs something from a cabinet and soon he returns to my side. I feel a tickle on my stomach and realize it's a feather fluttering lightly. The heat begins to rise in my core, the hunger between my legs getting stronger as he slowly draws the feather around my skin, taking extra care to tease me with it on my breasts and around my sex. Each little swish elicits a shiver from me and each shiver makes him respond in kind with a, “That's a girl,” or a strategically placed kiss.

“You've been a bad girl,” he says, licking my neck with a quick flick of his tongue. “I think you might need to be corrected.” I hear him grab something else from the cabinet and I'm not sure what to anticipate. There is a whoosh that pierces the air and suddenly a stinging sensation on my left buttock. The blow is not strong enough to cause much pain, more of a tease as the spot where it hit me begins to emanate heat. “How is that?” he asks, suddenly morphing back into sweet, caring Tom. “Let me know if it gets to be too much.”

I respond to him with a sly, “I've been more of a bad girl than that.”

“Oh.” I feel the instrument against my right hip, another slight sting, another hot spot, and then against the whole of my ass. I guess it is a riding crop, because the leather loop on the end snakes around and catches my hip. I moan and he instructs me to spread my legs apart, using his feet to help. Again another strike, this time vertically, so the loop curls up and licks at my sex. Another moan, another swish, the loop curls even further up, maddeningly teasing me into submission. My whole backside begins to burn and I am nearly dripping with anticipation. 

“Are you naked as well?” I venture to ask, visualizing Tom in his blue suit dominating me, the thought nearly too much to bear.

I feel the full force of his hand on my backside now, the buttons from his suit coat hitting me as well. “Does that answer your question?” he laughs. I writhe against his hand as he lets it linger too long. “Oh, what a bad girl you are,” he groans.

I feel him move to my side and feel that hand slap again, this time on my mound, the force of it enough to tease my already engorged clitoris. He leaves his hand there and I grind up against it, feeling the pressure, hoping he will quit teasing with it. My move makes him remove his hand and there is nothing for a moment. I realize that he is now undressing himself and I can only imagine watching him, the thought of his body driving me even more crazy. His silence is only punctuated by his heavy breaths as he approaches me once again.

Tom stands behind me once again, closer this time, and I can feel the length of his cock against me as he spins me. He presses me against the cold wall, my breasts aching from the chill. I feel his hands both reach around. He plunges one long finger into my depths and with the other begins circling my clit. I can't move because he has me pressed so hard, I can only sigh with each movement. His cock throbs against me and my own imaginings are making it hard to maintain any kind of control. Each deliberate movement he makes threatens to send me over the edge, but each time I whimper he says, “Not yet.”   
I feel my hips begin to flex of their own volition, grinding as they can against his ministrations, and as he begins to kiss the back of my neck and nip at the tender spot between my neck and shoulders, I am a goner. The waves of pleasure surge though me, the heat overtaking me.

I am almost at my peak when he stops, pulls himself from me and turns me back around. I protest, my hips still seeking him in the cold darkness. He uncuffs me from the shackles and takes my blindfold off. I can see him in the dim light, bare, his muscles chiseled and his cock larger than I had imagined it, standing at attention. 

As my eyes adjust, he pulls me to him, his tongue running over mine immediately, his arms around me. He walks with me this way to another door that I hadn't noticed and opens it, lips stull locked, his body against mine. The room we enter is smaller, but there is a bed in the middle that is covered with a velvet duvet. 

Tom releases me and pushes me on the bed, face down. I had assumed his assertion of dominance was over, but his hand slaps me on the behind again. He pulls my hips up and positions himself behind me. “I'm going to fucking tear you apart,” he snarls as he positions himself at my entrance and then slams himself into me, up to the hilt. It is enough to make me scream, pain and pleasure all rolled into one. He withdraws, then fills me again, this time more gently withdrawing. I mewl as he moves inside me, each thrust hitting the sweet spot inside a little more. He leans over my back and begins gently kissing me up my spine, up the back of my neck, over to my ears again, and I feel his hand reach around me and begin massaging my clit again. My hips buck at the combination of sensations and as he feels this, he thrusts even more forcefully, feeding into my impending orgasm. It begins to get too much and as I let it all overtake me, I bury my head into the bedcovers, unabashedly vocalizing my pleasure. 

As my release ebbs, his begins and I feel the spasm of his cock inside me as he grinds in until the warmth of his absolution spills from me, mingling with my juices. I feel him relax, his chest heaving against my backside. He withdraws from me and rolls me over, climbing up on the bed and laying by my side. “I wasn't too rough with you?” he asks, back to the sweet Tom.

Still in my post-orgasmic haze, I answer, “You were delicious.” 

This is the answer he wanted to hear. “Thank you for indulging me,” he smiles drowsily. He lays his head down and kisses my shoulder. “Sophia, I love you,” he proclaims, covering my abdomen with his arm.


End file.
